Beneath the Parasol Tree

After the first monthly exam, Mu Qingxi was neither the top scorer in math nor at the bottom in English, and her overall ranking was far from average—she was a poor student. This was both expected and unexpected.

"Mu Qingxi, here you go." A boy sitting diagonally behind her handed over a folded piece of paper. He was a fairly good-looking boy, though his lips were rather thick. He looked Mu Qingxi up and down with a curious expression.

Mu Qingxi looked at Xu Hongliang in surprise and asked, "What is this?"

Xu Hongliang grinned mischievously. "You'll know once you read it."

Mu Qingxi thought it was just a blank sheet, but after reading it, she was filled with questions. At the same time, she couldn't help but sneer inwardly and ignored it altogether. After all, in three years of high school, what kind of love letter hadn't she seen? But she'd never seen one as lacking in quality as this—it was the first of its kind, and she made a mental note of it.

Who would ever want to receive a random scrap of paper, torn straight from a notebook, filled with passionate complaints about the drudgery of remedial classes, hoping to find someone who felt the same? No salutation, no signature, and most absurd of all, expecting her to guess who he was!

Xu Hongliang, seeing that Mu Qingxi was ignoring him, poked her in the back with his pen. When she turned around, he said, "He wants you to write back."

Mu Qingxi stared at Xu Hongliang for about a minute before replying slowly, "I don't have time to play your games."

Xu Hongliang held a book in his hand and insisted, "It's not a game. If you write back, you'll find out."

Qin Yu noticed and asked with concern what was going on. Mu Qingxi gave a brief explanation. When Qin Yu asked what she was going to do, Mu Qingxi thought for a moment, then wrote at the top of the paper, "Sorry, you’ll have to figure it out yourself," and placed it on Xu Hongliang’s desk. Their classmates glanced over but said nothing, nor did anyone pick it up to look.

Mu Qingxi never expected that soon after, Xu Hongliang would place another sheet of paper on her desk. She picked it up and unfolded it to find an outline of his high school experiences.

All Mu Qingxi could conclude was: this boy was an idiot.

Did he think she was some infatuated girl, idolizing "gangsters"? To her, idolizing real gangsters was less interesting than idolizing pop groups.

Mu Qingxi grabbed a book and decided to go sit in the garden for some fresh air.

"Mu Mu, are you heading out?" Qin Yu walked over from the opposite side, cradling a book to her chest, and smiled.

"Yeah, I want to sit in the garden. The classroom feels stuffy. Do you want to come?" she asked.

Qin Yu answered with her actions, and the two exchanged a smile before heading into the garden. The air there was fragrant with a faint scent of grass, and a plane tree, whose age was impossible to guess, stood so large that one person couldn't possibly encircle it. There was no fountain in the middle of the garden; instead, a statue of Confucius stood at its center.

Mu Qingxi rolled her eyes and said to Qin Yu, "Wei Yu, why are there stones everywhere in No. 1 High? Even the garden isn't spared—a statue of Confucius stands right there." Because of Qin Yu's insistence, she had to call her Wei Yu, fortunately not something like "Fairy Wei Yu" or "The Fairy."

Qin Yu shook her head. Mu Qingxi looked at the plane tree and said, "Wei Yu, come on, let's sit under the plane tree."

As soon as they sat down, Qin Yu pouted and complained, "Mu Mu, why don’t you write 'Fairy Under the Sunset'? I’ve tried writing it so many times, but I just can’t do it. And you’ve drawn so many pictures, we could use the right ones as illustrations!"

Mu Qingxi looked at Qin Yu incredulously. "You’re not seriously planning to write 'Fairy Under the Sunset,' are you?"

"Of course! Why else would I insist on being called Wei Yu? I wanted to get into character to write it better." Qin Yu’s excitement faded as she continued, her voice dropping. "But who knew—I’ve tried so many times, and I just can’t write it."

There was nothing to be done; Qin Yu was a persistent girl, and Mu Qingxi almost regretted her own joke from back then.